Echo Six: Black Ops 4 - Chechen Massacre (22 page)

"I take it you're not going to answer him?" she asked him on the internal commo.

He shook his head. "No way. He's up to something. Let's just wait and see."

The grating, accented voice came back again. "You've decided not to reply, Commander. I wonder what would persuade you to talk to me, your children, perhaps? Joshua and James, you must miss them, as you are divorced from your wife and spend so much time away from them. I'm told their mother misses them too. Perhaps I can arrange for them to be reunited with her, if you cooperate."

Shit! So Ho organized their kidnap! I should have known. That bastard always thinks several steps ahead. He’s like one of those chess Grandmasters. I should have killed him long before now. One thing's for sure. When this is all over, I’ll hunt him down and tear him apart. Why didn't it occur to me that Ho was behind it?

His finger stabbed at the transmit button. "What have you done with them, Ho? What kind of game are you playing?"

Another grating chuckle. "Greetings, Commander Talley. I play the same game as you, my friend. A game of politics, and the items you stole are an important part of that game. You know they can never be used, so there is no danger. All they give is leverage and influence to whoever possesses them. You have to give them up if you wish to see your sons returned to their mother. Bring the helicopter back to Chongjin, Commander. I am waiting at the air base for you to land. As soon as my property is in my possession, I will make sure they are released, and you and your men will be free to continue on your journey. I will even allow you to take the helicopter if you wish. All I want are the items in those wooden crates."

"And if I don't hand them back?"

A pause. "I would not advise it." He sighed. "I imagine your children would still be returned to you, except it would be in a box, a very small box." His laughter was harsh and grating, the sound of a man who cared nothing at all for human life. A man for whom Joshua and James were merely pawns in a game.

"I'll come back to you in five minutes, not before." He clicked off the radio.

He glanced at Alessandra. "I need Guy and Domenico in the cockpit. Find them headsets."

"What will you do?"

"I don't know.” He shook his head in anguish. “I just don't know."

While he waited for her, he went through his options.

There’s no doubt he’ll give the order to kill my sons if I fail to comply. Can I live with myself if I do nothing and they’re murdered? No, but the other option’s no easier. I undertook the operation to save lives, not throw them away. If I give in to Ho, it’ll be handing over the means of thousands of deaths, even tens of thousands. The statement about them never being used is just bullshit. I know it, and Ho knows it.

"Abe!"

He jerked out of his reverie in time to see he was piloting the big helo straight into a hillside. He'd missed it completely. He jerked on the collective and banked the aircraft over, following a narrow valley between two hills.

Jesus Christ, I'm losing it! What the hell am I to do? Should I hand over command to Guy Welland, my number two? Now I'm so personally involved, I don't know if I can make the right decisions. I know what Guy would do. No way would he hand the warheads back to a North Korean psycho. Oh, God, Joshua and James! I failed you, completely failed you.

The two men appeared in the cockpit and took the headsets. Alessandra went aft to help with the wounded while he outlined the conversation with Colonel Ho.

"The reason I called you here is this. I need answers. I just don't know what to do."

Guy eyed him carefully. "You can't hand the warheads back to the crazies, you know that."

"I know, and my sons?"

The former SAS man shook his head. "The cops are looking for them. All you can hope is they find them."

"Before Ho's men chop them into little pieces?"

Guy couldn't meet his accusing glance.

"Abe."

He looked at Rovere. "What is it?"

"We need an alternative. There are two options on the table at present. Neither is acceptable. We need a third."

"Like exploding one of the nukes on top of that North Korean bastard’s head?" Talley scowled.

"Truly, hell is empty and all the devils are here," Rovere intoned. He smiled an apology. "I'm sorry, when things are bad, I find it calms me to think of lines from the immortal Shakespeare."

"Maybe, but it doesn't work for the rest of us. What kind of a third option?"

"We go after Ho. First, we locate him. I guess he must be at Chongjin Air Base as he wants us to land there," Talley nodded. "In which case, we land nearby after we hide the nukes, or maybe ditch them back out to sea," Rovere continued. "Then we go in and get him."

"Inside Chongjin Air Base? He'll be guarded by hundreds of his troops."

"We've done it before."

Talley looked at Guy. "What do you think?"

The Brit sighed heavily. "What I think is we should get out with the nukes, and leave hunting your sons and bringing them home to the cops back in the US. We've got what we came for. Military doctrine dictates we should call it a day and go home. It's the common sense thing to do.” His eyes were neutral as he looked at Talley. “On the other hand…"

"Go on."

He grinned. "I'm beginning to take a serious dislike to this North Korean bastard. Provided we can stash those warheads somewhere they can't be found, like Domenico said, out to sea, we should think about going after him. There is one important factor we need to consider. None of us knows anything at all about the layout of Chongjin Air Base, and if we go in there blind, the only certainty is we won’t come out of there alive."

He held up his hand to interrupt as Talley tried to object. "Neither would it save your sons. If Ho kills you, kills all of us for that matter, why should he bother to go to the inconvenience and risk of letting the boys go? He'll tell whoever has them to kill them, Boss. You may as well face it. So yeah, it could be a good third option. Maybe one we could even pull off, but it won't work, not without inside intel on that base. Without that, it’s a no go."

Talley looked at both men, and he could see it in their eyes. Taking the fight direct to Ho and forcing the release of the boys was a perfect solution, but Sergeant Guy Welland was correct, absolutely correct. Without knowledge of the base, the raid would result in their inevitable deaths, and the boys would die as well. Talley thought for long minutes and finally nodded.

"I'll head back out over the sea, and we'll ditch the warheads. Take a look inside the crates and see if there’s anything that looks like it may contain data, the guidance software Barrington was after. I’d like to take it back for analysis. If they can find the bastard who stole it, it would mean Barrington didn’t die for nothing. Then I'll vector northwest and make landfall close to Vladivostok, so you should be able to find a way home from there."

Guy's eyes narrowed. "And you?" But he already knew.

"I'm going back for Ho, and don't offer to help, either of you, because it isn't going to happen. I know what I'm facing, and I have to do this alone."

"You're going to die," Rovere said quietly.

"I know it, but my life is all I have left to offer. I'll try and take Ho with me, although I know the chances are not great."

They flew on in silence and re-crossed the coast. Guy went aft and returned a few minutes later holding four simple, common USB data sticks.

“They found one in each crate. It has to be what Barrington was hunting.”

He nodded. “Keep them with you, and give them over to Brooks when you get back. He’ll pass them on to the MPs.”

Guy pocketed the data sticks in silence, and then turned to go back into the cabin. Twenty kilometers offshore, Talley hovered over the surface while the men maneuvered the heavy crates to the door.

“You sure you want me to do this?” Guy came forward to ask him again, making sure.

“Toss them in.”

He nodded and left. They pushed the crated warheads into the sea, and Talley made a mental note of the exact GPS coordinates, in case their NATO bosses required recovering them at a later date. Guy came into the cockpit, a smile on his face.

“It was a relief to get rid of those things, Boss. We left them a calling card, by the way, kind of ‘Echo Six was here’. Jerry Ostrowski carved ‘E6’ into the timber of each crate, just for posterity. You know what he’s like, the crazy Pole. I guess it’s not everyday we manage to own our very own nukes, if only for a short time.”

He set course for Russia to make landfall south of Vladivostok, where his men could disembark before he returned to Chongjin; a North Korean city that was the location of the military air base where Ho was waiting for him, the city that would soon become his grave.

He flew on across the endless ocean. His brain was on automatic pilot, directing his hands to fly the cumbersome machine and keep it skimming just above the surface of the waves, beneath the enemy radar. He had a peculiar satisfaction, knowing his future was now ordained. If his actions led to the death of his sons, he wouldn't be able to live with it on his conscience. So bit it. Even if a solo attempt on Colonel Ho failed, it would be better to die in the attack than face living with the death of Joshua and James on his hands. Guy and Domenico left him alone, and he was grateful. He'd chosen the course for himself, in life and in death, and he preferred not to have to share it with anyone else.

Once he'd seen his men safely out of enemy territory, he could concentrate on the job in hand, killing Ho. Alessandra came into the cockpit and argued with him, trying to talk him out of committing suicide.

But how can she know what I’m going through?

Eventually, she gave up and returned to the cabin. A few minutes later, he heard her voice in his headset.

"Abe? There's something you need to hear."

"There's nothing I need to hear,” he snapped back. “I've made up my mind."

Leave me alone! Can't they just accept I need to focus on what I have to do?

"You have to hear this. Josef has been talking to us. He may be able to help.”

The injured Russian pilot, Josef Phillipov, what the hell can he do? He’s barely alive as it is.

Alessandra continued, “He has something important to tell you.”

He heard a grating, choking laugh, which tailed off into a fit of coughing.

"Tell you the truth, I feel like shit, but when I awoke they gave me something for the pain, so it's not so bad."

"That's good, my friend. We'll land in a couple of hours in Russian territory, so the men will get you to a hospital. Lie down and try to rest, Josef. You need to keep your strength."

Another fit of coughing, and another torrent of hoarse, faltering Russian and English. "Keep my strength for what? Turn around and see for yourself."

Surprised, Talley glanced around, and there was Josef Phillipov. The gravely wounded pilot had crawled up to the cockpit and was sitting on the floor of the aircraft, supported by Alessandra and Guy.

"Jesus Christ, he shouldn’t be moved. Take him back to the cabin and get him comfortable. It could kill him."

"He knows the danger," she asserted. "He's no fool. He knows it all."

"Knows what?"

"I know that I am dying, but there is one last thing I can do for you. I told you I spent time in North Korea training their pilots. For three months, I was stationed in Chongjin Air Base. I can guide you in there."

"That's crazy! It's enough for one man to be killed. There's no way I'm taking you with me."

Domenico Rovere came up from the cabin where he'd been listening to the conversation on his headset. "Boss, the immortal William Shakespeare said, 'There is a tide in the affairs of men, which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune. Omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and in miseries.' It seems to me we’re caught up on that tide. We can either go with it, or not. What we have to do is obvious."

"We?"

"We," Rovere answered firmly. “It’s obvious.”

"It’s not obvious to me," he snapped coldly. He knew exactly what the Italian meant, and it wasn't going to happen. Not on his watch. "The answer is no, Dom. Not in a million years. I'm taking you across the border, and you’ll make your way home from Russian territory."

"There is a way in," Josef spoke again. "It is an old underground bomb shelter, with a passage that links to abandoned missile silos they built in the 1960s. It was a project conceived more in optimism than for any good reason, because at the time they had no viable missiles, and the Kremlin had no wish to upset the balance of power in that part of the world.

They refused to send Kim the missiles he so desperately wanted, and the silos were left empty and unused. We Russians were not allowed much freedom, and most of the time they confined us to the base. We used the passage from the bomb shelter to the silos, out to the exit a kilometer from the main gate.” He smiled. “From there, we’d catch a ride into town from one of the friendly Korean pilots. They weren't all bastards, fortunately."

"And you reckon it's still there?"

"Sure to be."

"What seemed like an impossibility a half-hour ago, could be doable," Domenico exclaimed.

Talley glanced at Guy, who nodded. "I'd like to wipe the smile off that bastard's face," he muttered. "I say we do it."

He was thinking urgently. With every second they were flying further from g, on a dogleg course that had taken them back out to sea to dump the warheads; and then in the direction of Vladivostok to land the men, many who were wounded. And Josef, who was dying, there was no pretending. Talley had little time to make the call. If he didn't make a decision in the next couple of minutes, it would be too late.

I’m tempted, sure, but the wounded too? I should offload them first, but it will be too late.

Guy seemed to read his mind. "We have to take the wounded with us, Boss. I've had a talk with them, and they're for it, every single man jack of them. Besides, they’ll be useful. We need someone to guard the helo while we go in there."

"And Josef? You think it's right I should take him along on an operation that will kill him, to save the lives of my two sons?"

"He's dying anyway," the Brit responded. "Right now, it's a choice between whether you allow him to go down in battle and die an honorable death, or does he just breathe his last in some stinking ER room? I know what I'd choose."

I'd choose the same, but does that give me the right to decide a man's fate?

He agonized for what seemed like an eternity, although it was probably less than a minute, a minute in which the Mi-26 flew ever further from Chongjin. They were looking at him, Josef, Guy, Domenico, and Alessandra. He tried to read her eyes, but they were unfathomable. For once in his life, in his long military career in Special Forces, he was lost. He just didn't know. She met his gaze, and he decided to put the question to her.

"What do you think?"

"I think we have a chance, a slight chance to put right an evil that has been done. If you don't turn this helo around, you'll die a thousand deaths every day for the rest of your life."

He stamped on the rudder bar and swung the Mi-26 around until its nose pointed toward the southwest. "In that case, let's pay the good Colonel a visit."

They discussed the approach to the base for several minutes, and then Guy went aft to the cabin to begin preparing for the coming action. Domenico and Alessandra stayed with Josef, and she redressed and checked his wounds. None of them said anything, but it was obvious the major task was making sure he didn't bleed out before they went into action. Talley concentrated on keeping the helo low and level. If they went too low, they’d brush the surface and surely crash. If they went too high, they could expect an early visit from North Korean fighter interceptors.

Ten minutes later, they crossed the coastline at Najin, eighty kilometers from their destination, and hurtled across the bleak landscape of the communist country. Josef fell asleep, and they left him to rest. Alessandra slipped into the co-pilot’s seat and turned to Talley.

"How do you feel? About revenge on Colonel Ho at long last."

He examined his conscience, and it surprised him. "It’s not about revenge. It's all about freeing my two boys, and ridding the world of an evil menace. That's it."

"I'm pleased," she nodded approvingly. "Not so long ago, you were eating yourself up about the need to kill him. It's good to know you’ve got it in perspective. When we go in there, your men need someone to lead them who has a mind uncluttered by feelings of hate and revenge."

Do I feel hatred toward the man? No, hate is fear, and I don't fear him. He's a target, a face for one of the snipers to put in his crosshairs, or for me to fill his belly full of lead. Then we move on to the next operation. It's what we were trained for. It's what we do. It's all we do.

* * *

Josef was giving him instructions on the route to follow. He flew cross-country meters above the ground until they were southwest of Chongjin. Then he turned the Mil and pointed the nose northeast, as if they were following a flight that originated in Pyongyang. Any journey that came from the capital would be largely ignored, whereas one that appeared from the Chinese border could be scrutinized more carefully. Who knew which high-ranking personnel flew in the big troop carrier flying in from Pyongyang? It could be someone important, someone with a great deal of influence. It could even be 'Him'.

Josef directed him to where they could wait, only ten kilometers from the air base, a clearing that had once played host to many an amorous meeting between Russian pilots and North Korean girls. He brought the Mil to the hover and set down on the ground.

"If I go any nearer,” he explained, “they'll put us under the microscope. But if we follow a flight of fixed wing aircraft or helicopters, they'll likely assume we're a straggler and take no notice. As soon as a flight arrives, wait until they're about to put down on the tarmac and then head in toward our LZ. It’s about one kilometer outside of the air base, close to the silo entrance, so we shouldn't have too far to walk. Assuming it hasn’t changed."

Talley wondered if it were possible that nothing had altered in the decades since Josef had worked there, instructing trainee pilots. He shrugged inwardly, they'd soon know. Guy Welland and Roy Reynolds climbed out of the aircraft and mounted a patrol, just in case there were any hostiles nearby, but they reported back the area was clear. Clear of everything, people, houses animals, crops, everything.

"It's a military zone," Josef explained. "They cleared everyone after they built the air base, but not before they used them as slave labor in the building operation. Most of them were peasants, and the communists stole their animals and crops to feed the workers."

"Where did they go after?" Alessandra asked him.

He grimaced. "Those who survived, and there weren't many of them, were sent to Pyongyang, so I believe. Their task was to build new atomic bomb shelters for the party elite. I doubt many survived. They were already weak from overwork and insufficient food."

It was a depressing thought, and the conversation stopped. Suddenly, a torrent of Korean erupted into the cockpit speaker. Talley hit the engine start buttons almost before Josef croaked, "Inbound flight, it's time to go."

As soon as the flight of four aircraft dropped in for a landing, all Russian-built Ilyushin transports, he adjusted the throttle controls, turned the collective, and the Mil-26 took off. He kept the craft at treetop height as they skimmed across the barren ground, heading for the old missile silos. No one spoke. It was a tense moment. Talley kept the speed down, doing everything to make as quiet an approach as was possible in a huge, noisy troop carrying helo that was about as stealthy as the sound of smashing glass in a city library.

"That old building down there! If you land in front of it, you'll be out of sight from the road. All Russian rotorcraft carry a camouflage net. When we land, we can use it to hide us from a casual glance."

It was like a small warehouse, constructed of redbrick. Apparently, the staircase down to the silos was inside. It was a depressing sight, the building sagging and decayed, like North Korea. Part of the roof had collapsed, and there was no glass in the window frames. He put the Mil-26 down on a patch of cracked and broken concrete immediately in front of the structure, hit the engine shutdown, and the noise began to die away as the massive rotors slowed.

"Everyone move! Guy, secure the perimeter, and get a patrol out to check for hostiles. Domenico, help Alessandra lift Josef out through the hatch and get him inside the building. Vince, find a good stand and take a couple of men with you to help in case you need to move out fast. The rest of you, find the camo net and cover the Mil. Make sure two of the wounded stay inside the cabin. I want both doors covered with door gunners. Roy, stay here. You’re in command."

"You sure about that, Boss? You don't have many fit men to go with you, not enough if you run into trouble."

"I'm sure. If we run into trouble, the helo is out only way out. Use the Minimi to cover the approaches, and keep everybody under cover. Remember, people, we're close to a military air base. If the natives get wind of us, the shitstorm will make the Alamo seem like an amusement park ride. How are we doing with that camo net?"